


Thomas Jefferson isn't Crushing on James Madison

by LamBams (forfitzsimmons)



Series: The Other 51 Hamilton Challenge [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Boys Kissing, Demisexuality, Gay Panic, Internalized Homophobia, James just wants his bestie, Panic Attacks, Poor Thomas, Thomas is so confused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 16:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13414971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forfitzsimmons/pseuds/LamBams
Summary: Thomas doesn't like James like that... Right?orThomas has a Gay Panic about James.Prequel to Thomas Jefferson is Not Gay





	Thomas Jefferson isn't Crushing on James Madison

As soon as Thomas walked into their apartment, James had eyed him with his usual disapproval. He shook his head, probably at Thomas’ disheveled appearance.

“ _Jemmy_ , I’m _dying_.” Thomas clutched at his hair, willing his headache to go away. The dark sunglasses he wore did little to black out the painful rays of light coming from their living room window. If he leaned over anymore to avoid the light, he’d end up falling off the kitchen barstool.

“I wonder why,” James said. “Maybe because you went out for the third night in a row to drink and get laid.” He moved to close the blinds, eliciting a sigh of relief from Thomas. “You’re gonna kill yourself like this—or one of those girls will come after you and kill you.”

“Please, I’m a perfect gentleman to them.” He grimaced when another pulse radiated from his head.

James rummaged through a kitchen cabinet. “I’m sure it was very gentlemanly of you to sneak out and take your walk of shame back here.” He gave out a little ‘aha!’ and pulled out Thomas’ migraine medication. “Here, take your meds.”

Thomas eagerly snatched the bottle. “You’re an angel, Jem.” He downed two pills without another thought. “Thank god for modern medicine.”

“Y’know this isn’t what you’re supposed to use those for, right?” James shook his head again and filled a glass of water. “You’re not going back to sleep, so drink some water and get your head out of your ass. We’re in college to _learn_.” He shoved the glass into Thomas’ hands.

“Oh, I’m learning _plenty_.” He grinned. “Don’t be a Debbie-Downer, Mr. Pre-Med.” He chugged the glass of water and banged it onto the kitchen counter.

“I just worry about you. I don’t want to lose my best friend to alcohol poisoning.” James shoved his hands in his pockets. “I never see you anymore now that you’re out partying all the time. We went to the same college to be together and it’s like we’re in separate places anyway.”

Thomas took a moment to reflect on his best friend’s words. He chewed on his lower lip as he thought about his behavior since he and James left for college. Thomas had barely been home and they had entirely different majors, so he really hadn’t seen James much in the last month. Thomas looked over his friend, noted the defeated slouch and the heartbreaking frown. He’d left his best friend all alone.

“Jemmy, I’m sorry.” Thomas hopped off the barstool and stood face-to-face with James. “I’ve been a terrible best friend. Can you forgive me?”

James looked up at Thomas. “Will you cut down on the partying?”

“For you, yes.”

That earned him a soft smile. “I forgive you.”

Thomas threw his arms around his friend. “You’ll have to peel me off you, now.”

James returned the hug and murmured, “That’s fine with me.”

Something odd happened in Thomas’ chest at James’ soft words. His heart sped up just the slightest bit. He felt warm, like he’d just had hot chocolate on a cold day. For a moment, he couldn’t seem to breathe. He broke away from the hug when he started to panic.

“I guess this is when you force me to do my homework?” Thomas tried to keep his cool even though he was starting to mentally hyperventilate.

James gave him that soft smile again and moved a hand to his back. “You know me so well.”

James guided Thomas over to the couch and then went to retrieve his homework from his bedroom. The short reprieve gave Thomas a moment to gather his wits.

 _At me, what the fuck? Chill out, this is just Jemmy. Best friend Jemmy, funny Jemmy, adorable Jemmy—Fuck, no, where the fuck did that come from? I’m still really hangover, aren’t I?_ Thomas gave a sigh of relief at the acceptable explanation. _Yep, just hangover and probably still a little drunk. I’m straight, but even I know I’m a hoe when I’m wasted. That’s all that was._

Thomas had gotten his head on straight by the time James returned. The boy plopped down on the sofa with his own homework and passed over Thomas’ international affairs textbook.

“Your room is almost as big a mess as you are.”

_Retweet._

#

“I’m dying.” James was curled up in his bed in a strained fetal position. Pained groans and whines accompanied his amusingly familiar words.

“No, Jem, you’re just sick.” Thomas tucked James into his favorite blanket (dubbed “The Sick Blanket” because it was comfortable, soft, and easily washed) and wrung out a wet washcloth.

“Sick and dying, Thomas. Sick and dying.” Tear droplets were gathering under James’ squeezed-shut eyes.

Thomas placed the washcloth over James’ burning forehead. “It’s just a stomach bug, Jemmy. It’ll be okay. I’ll take care of you.”

James managed to open his eyes, still gleaming wet. “You promise?”

“I promise.” Thomas reached over and put a hand over one of James’. The tiny smile Thomas got in return short-circuited his brain. By the time he’d rebooted, James had fallen into a fitful sleep.

Thomas reached over to brush a stray hair out of James’ face only to jerk it back. His heart pounded and he felt his face heat when he replayed James’ smile over in his head. It was _his_ smile, the one specifically for Thomas whenever he did something silly or kind or something James was oddly fond of. The smile was just so soft and adorable and Thomas wondered what that smile tasted like—

He took in a sudden breath and forced his gaze away from his best friend. Maybe Thomas should go drink some OJ. He must be catching whatever James was suffering from. It was making him delirious.

He firmly ignored the voice in his brain (that sounded way too much like Hamilton) telling him that delirium wasn’t a good explanation for wanting to kiss his best _male_ friend.

#

Thomas was going insane. He was practically having a panic attack every time he was alone with James for more than a few minutes. He’d start thinking about how nice it is to be near him (normal), how glad he is to have him (normal), how sweet it is that James holds his hand when Thomas gets nervous (normal…ish), how adorable he is when he’s reading and sticks his tongue out like a cat (erm…), how great he is at hugs and that Thomas would really like to just hug him forever (uh, hold on…), how he’d really like to kiss him when he smiles just so—. Thomas could feel the record scratch, the rusty breaks screeching in protest, the _panic panic panic holy shit no no red alert stop right there brain please stop_.

He knew James was probably worrying himself sick about why Thomas was nearly bursting into tears so often. He blamed it on college, on hard-ass professors that didn’t like his opinion, on anything but the rising panic that he might be gay.

A decent chunk of him wondered why he was so upset about it. It was the 21st century; there was nothing _wrong_ with being gay. The other chunk, the _larger_ chunk, knew what was in for him if he was. If his parents found out, he’d be a goner. Disowned, shamed, _hated_. He’d be hopeless and the part that listened to every word his parents ever preached about _sinning homosexuals_ made him disgusted with himself. Worst of all was knowing that James would agree.

So, Thomas said nothing.

#

A pit the size of a mountain sat in Thomas’ stomach. James was out of the house, studying late at the library with one of Hamilton’s harem (Jack? John? He didn’t really care.). This would be the final test. The only way to know.

He opened an incognito tab on his laptop and typed in what he was looking for with shaky hands. The second the results popped up on screen—

_Ew, ew, ew, fuck that’s gross! That’s not meant to go there!_

He quickly closed the page before he hurled. That’d scar him for life, but, on the bright side, he wasn’t gay.

An unwanted thought pushed itself into his brain. Suddenly, the images he’d just been scarred by were replaced by James and _oh shit_.

Thomas took the coldest shower of his life, scrubbing at his skin until it hurt. He cried into his pillows and wondered how hard it’d be to suffocate himself.

#

“Thomas?” James peeked around the door to Thomas’ bedroom. He’d started tip-toeing around him since he’d been panicking so much. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” Thomas closed the textbook at his desk and tried to look calm. _Just chill out. It’s just Jem. Just Jem. Best friend. Emphasis on friend. Friend-o. Just Jem._

“I’m worried about you,” he stated.

“Is this an intervention?” Thomas raised a brow at him, hoping the joking tone would ease his friend’s worries.

“No, I just want to talk.” James took a place on his bed and Thomas tried very hard not to connect _James_ and _bed_ in an inappropriate way. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What?”

“You get upset every time we spend time together. Are you angry with me? Do you really miss partying that much?”

 _Oh._ Thomas hadn’t counted on this, but he should have. Kind, selfless James would, of course, assume he’d done something wrong.

“Of course not! You’re perfect, Jem. I just,” he struggled to come up with a good lie, “I just can’t be emotional in front of other people. I trust you and I’ve just been so stressed lately—.”

“Then why don’t we hang out anymore? No pizza night, no study breaks for shitty movies, no time together at all. It’s like you’re avoiding me.” The scrunched up look on James’ face told Thomas he was stuck between angry and sad and it broke Thomas’ heart. “If this is what studying does to you, maybe I should’ve let you keep partying. This is _worse_.”

“Oh, _Jemmy_.” Thomas moved to his side, sitting next to him on the bed. “I’m sorry, Jem. I promise it’s not you. It’s all me. It’s my fault.”

“But _why_? I don’t understand what’s going on.”

Thomas tried to search for something, anything that could fix this. He came up short. “It’s better that you don’t.”

James whispered, “Do you not trust me?”

If Thomas’ heart was broken before, it was shattered now. They’d been together since the first grade. They’d shared everything with each other, especially secrets. James was hurting and it was his fault. He was hurting because Thomas couldn’t get this _thing_ under control.

Maybe he deserved what he was about to get.

“I—I have to confess something.” That got James’ attention. He moved to hold Thomas’ hand, but Thomas pulled away. “I don’t think you’ll want to be anywhere near me after this.”

“Did you kill someone?” James joked, but then his face fell. “Please tell me you didn’t actually kill Hamilton.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “No, I didn’t kill anyone. Though, if I did that was a pretty chill reaction and that’s concerning.”

“We’re best friends; I’d help you bury the body.”

His hands trembled. “You might change your mind about that in a minute.” Thomas took in a shaky breath. “I like you.”

“I would hope so,” James said.

“No, I mean I _like_ you—as more than a friend.”

“Oh.” Silence fell over the room and Thomas struggled to keep himself together. “So, are you bi, like Hamilton?”

“I don’t know.” Thomas stared to the side. “I tried to, um, _look it up_ , but it was gross.”

“But you like me.”

“Yeah,” Thomas said. “I like you.”

A moment passed. Thomas visibly jumped when a warm hand wrapped around his shaky palm. His eyes fluttered closed when a thumb rubbed between his tense knuckles.

“So, this whole time, you’ve been going through some sort of gay panic because you like me?”

“Yes,” Thomas croaked. “Do you hate me?”

“Why the hell would I hate you?” James placed a hand on his cheek and made Thomas face him.

“Be—because it’s weird and unnatural?”

“No, hon.” The endearment made Thomas’ breath catch. “I know we grew up hearing that crap, but you know better. I know you do.” James gave him _that_ smile, the one Thomas agonized so much over. “I’m sad that you thought I’d hate you. Even if I didn’t like you back, I’d never hate you.”

“I was scared and—wait, what do you mean _even_ _if you didn’t like me back_?” And wow, Thomas hadn’t realized it was so dark until James’ smile turned into a megawatt grin. It was startling and was there a tinge of red in his cheeks?

“I like you too.”

Thomas immediately threw his arms around James. “You do? You like me? Not that there’s anything to _dis_ like because I’m amazing, which you obviously know after over a decade of friendship.”

James snorted. “Of course. There’s not one thing I could possibly dislike. Not the excessive partying, excessive drinking, having sex with every girl on campus—nope, I’m definitely into that.”

“Were you _jealous_?” Thomas grinned. “Oh my god, you _were_. That’s adorable.”

James coughed. “Moving on, now that we’ve established we feel the same, what do you want to do?”

Thomas deflated. He hadn’t really thought this far ahead. Hell, he hadn’t even considered this as a possibility. On the one hand, he could have James like he’d been thinking about for so long, but on the other hand, guilt and self-loathing were still swirling around in his stomach. Requited feelings hadn’t solved that.

“I don’t know,” Thomas said. “I’m glad we feel the same, but, I’m still scared.”

“Me too,” James agreed. “Virginia sure did a number on us, huh?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to be held back by stupid shit our parents said. I mean, they tried to stop me from wearing purple and now I fucking rock it.” That got him a laugh. “But I can't be open about this, James. You don’t deserve to be hidden away. You deserve outlandish displays of affection and dates and an obnoxious amount of PDA and everything to go with it.”

“And if I said I’d trade all of that away to have you every time?”

“I’d say that’s cheesy as fuck and you should kiss me.” Thomas backed up, “Uh, I mean. Only if you wanted to—“

And _okay_ , wow, James’ smile felt better than he’d imagined. His lips were a little dry, but that was fine—the rough texture was a surprisingly nice feeling, even compared to the lipbalmed girls Thomas had kissed and honestly this was better. It was safe, and content, and Thomas actually got the warm-and-fuzzies from a simple, closed-mouth kiss. Thomas took a risk and threaded his fingers into James’ hair, causing the boy to sigh into the kiss. Thomas could die right this instant and he’d die a happy man and he tried to put a finger on why.

It was blissfully quiet. That had to be it. All the loud, confused thoughts in his head had been silenced. It was just him and James, like it always had been, but more. It wasn’t the kind of moment that needed words or heated sounds. It just existed in its own little bubble, protected from the noise of everything else.

When they eventually broke apart, Thomas murmured, “Stay with me?”

“Always.”


End file.
